Ever Since We Met
Chapter Three
Ryan's POV
I don't know what Tayla's problem is. She kept giving me such dirty looks and was practically raping Brendon. I could barely contain my laughter when she fell off her chair. And, by the looks of it, so did everyone else. Spencer walked over as I began walking to class. "You off to music?" He asked. I nodded. "Cool, me too." So, we walked there together. "Is she always like that?" I asked once we were out of the cafeteria. "Tayla? Yeah, unfortunately." "Are her and Brendon together?" I just had to ask. Spencer nodded, then shook his head. "Sorta, but he can't stand her." Poor guy; who could?
10 minutes into the class, which was spent copying notes from the board, Brendon walked in and took a seat next to Spencer. "Thanks for saving me, man." He said with edge whilst glaring at Spencer. He just shrugged. "She's your problem, not mine." That look just got dirtier. "You gotta help me. She's crazy." He whisper-yelled the last part. Well, that was obvious. "You're the one who decided to go along with it." "You're not helping, Spen." Once again, Spencer just shrugged.
The rest of the lesson was spent in silence. Good thing it was the last for the day. The bell rang and everyone speedily packed up their things and raced out the door. Who could blame them? I walked out the door and towards the exit when Brendon grabbed my shoulder. "Hey, you busy?" He asked. I shook my head. "Today's the only day I'm free after school, and the teacher said I gotta help you catch up. You up for it?" "Sure." And with that, we were off to Brendon's house.
He lived in my street. Coincidence? Yeah, I think not. Or hope not; either way. Although we lived at opposite ends, but whatever. He shouted a quick 'hello' before we went up to his bedroom. The walls had posters scattering the walls. One that caught my attention immediately was the Beatles. "Nice posters." I commented. "Thanks." He replied half-heartedly, grabbing his school books. We had all out classes together. Another coincidence? Possibly.
Half an hour later and we were already bored. He'd given me a brief breakdown of what was happening in each subject (except music, cause 'it's such a bludge; we've never done anything ever in it.') It wasn't hard and wouldn't take long for me to catch me. Except maybe science; not my strong point. "I should probably be getting home now," I said, getting up, "thanks for the help." "No problem."
Five minutes and I'm standing outside my front door. Dad's car was in the driveway, meaning he was home. Let's just hope he wasn't shit-faced. I opened the door quietly, closing it behind myself. "Where the fuck have you been?" He slurred. Why can't I be lucky for one day of my life? Why? "A friend was helping me catch up with school work." He laughed. "Friend? As if you'd have a friend." I remained silent.
"Cat got your tongue, boy?" "No." I answered quietly. "Now, I'm gonna ask again; where were you?" "I told you." "Are you talking back to me?" His voice boomed. I shook my head. His fist swung towards me. There was nothing I could do to stop it. It hit me right in the gut, causing me to hunch over, clutching it in pain. More hits, more pain. I ended up on the floor, fighting off tears. "You're so fucking weak." He told me, kicking me. "Faggot." He spat before finally ending the torture.